


there’s a place that i know (it’s not pretty there if you should ever go)

by anythingbutplatonic



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Angst, Depression, Discussion of suicide and suicidial thoughts, Follow up to the episode on 5.7.19, Hurt/Comfort, Husbands, M/M, Mental Illness, Mentions of Lee - Freeform, References to Vic's rape, Vic's sl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-23 12:36:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19701502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anythingbutplatonic/pseuds/anythingbutplatonic
Summary: Aaron finally gets a chance to talk to his husband about the reality of his declining mental health and helps him understand a few truths about what he’s going through in light of Victoria’s trauma and his struggle to cope.





	there’s a place that i know (it’s not pretty there if you should ever go)

After their conversation on the bridge, Aaron couldn’t bear to watch Robert have another fitful, sleepless night. 

For the last few weeks he’d been constantly tossing and turning, waking up at all hours and pacing their bedroom when he thought Aaron was asleep, and making excuses like needing a drink or needing the loo when he got caught. At first, Aaron hadn’t wanted to push him, and let him ride it out in his own way. But it had been getting harder and harder to watch his husband get paler and paler, his face more pinched, the bags under his eyes deeper, his concentration shorter and his patience thinner the more he worried about Victoria and what she was going through. Seeing her so on edge, constantly worried about seeing Lee or Wendy anywhere she might go, the ever-present fear that she wouldn’t be allowed to just be an ordinary mum and raise her child in peace, was pushing Robert to the brink. 

He tried not to let on, but Aaron could see it in his eyes and he knew how much he was suffering, even if he didn’t want Aaron to see because Vic had it much harder than he did and he believed his problems weren’t important.

But they were to Aaron. 

It had gotten so bad that his mum had come up to him in the pub that afternoon, pressed a hand to his arm and asked him gently, “Is Robert alright, love? _Really?”_

He’d been in before, she’d said. Sat in the corner with a pint he barely drank, staring into space, like a statue, she’d said. Motionless. Looking at everything and seeing nothing. 

“It scared me a bit,” she’d said. “I’ve never seen him look like that before.”

_No,_ he’d wanted to tell her. _No, he’s not._

The thing was, Aaron knew exactly how it felt to feel like a ghost, drowning in your own shame and self-hatred, because he’d done the same thing himself. Looking at Robert lately was like looking at himself in the mirror, ten years ago. Back during a time in his life when he felt so awful all the time that he’d thought about, and had actually tried, disappearing from the world forever.

But now he was glad. He was glad that Adam had pulled him from the fume-filled garage that day, because it had all led him to Robert and to their family and he could not be more grateful.

He just needed to remind Robert of that, too. He needed that same change of perspective and recognition. To show him that what they had was worth it - and that if he felt like that, like Aaron had, that he wasn’t alone.

So that night, before climbing into bed next to his husband, Aaron went to the cupboard where they kept the spare sheets and pulled down a thick, heavy bundle of fabric - his weighted blanket. The one he’d been recommended by his counsellor, to help with his anxiety and panic attacks and insomnia, the one he’d bought after Gordon and everything he went through with the trial and then his father’s death.

He hadn’t used it in months. The last time had been when Billy had showed up, right over Christmas, and the weight on his chest had made him feel like he was choking with the fear of seeing him everywhere he went. When he’d been too afraid to leave the house, it was the only thing that had brought him relief. Now, though, he and Billy were on a stalemate of sorts, almost like they’d called a truce, and he’d put it back in the top of the cupboard where it had always been.

He carried it wordlessly into their bedroom now, bare feet padding across the carpet, and placed it on the bed with a soft, “Here.”

At the sound of Aaron’s voice, Robert rolled over onto his back, the harsh light of the bedside lamp throwing into sharp relief just how haggard he really looked. Aaron’s chest gave an awful, painful squeeze as he looked at him. 

Almost immediately, Robert shook his head, his eyes falling to the blanket and staring there. “Aaron, I couldn’t.”

“You can, and I want you too,” Aaron replied. “Look at ya, Rob, you look like death warmed up. When was the last time you actually slept?

“Gee, thanks,” was the murmured response, Robert throwing an arm over his eyes and sighing deeply. “I feel really appreciated.”

“ _Robert,”_ Aaron pleaded, kneeling on the bed and crawling up next to him, gently pulling his arm away from his face and cupping his cheek softly. He felt rather than heard Robert’s infinitesimal gasp, biting his lip as he leaned in to Aaron’s warm palm without thinking, his eyelids drifting closed. They were purple under taught, fatigue-grey skin, the shadows under his eyes like bruises. Aaron gently traced his thumb there. “Robert, please, I’m - “ he swallowed hard, a sudden lump in his throat. His voice was hoarse and quiet as he continued. “I’m worried about ya. The way you’ve been actin’....the not sleepin’, not eatin’, hardly concentrating at work....you remind me of meself. The way I used to be.”

At that, Robert’s eyes snapped open, huge and blue-green in the dim light, and the fear there was enough to make Aaron’s blood run cold. Fear that he was right. Fear that he really was going under. Fear that he was falling with no way of being able to catch himself.

“You think I’m losing my mind?” Robert whispered, reaching for Aaron’s hand and wrapping his own fingers tight around it. “Be honest with me, Aaron.”

“I think you’re going to make yourself ill if you carry on like this,” Aaron said simply. “So does Liv, and me mum. They won’t say as much, but they’re all really worried that you-” he cut himself off, not able to even think the words. “Well. You know how things....ended with me.”

“I haven’t felt like myself since....before we found out about Vic,” Robert admitted. “I think the last time I felt like myself was when we were outside that club, and you were scoffing chips after having one too many and trying to flirt with me.”

“Er, what do you mean tryin’? I _succeeded_ , thank you, if what happened after we got home is anythin’ to go by,” Aaron protested. 

“After that...” he carried on, “after that is sort of a blur, really. Like white noise, inside my head. I can’t think beyond knowing what Vic went through. It’s all that’s in my head, all the time. How scared she must have been, how that - that bastard hurt her so much that she stayed locked up in her own house for _weeks_ without telling another soul what happened.”

“This is good, Robert,” Aaron soothed, squeezing his hand. “This is really good. You need to _talk_ to me about it.”

But Robert shook his head again. “I can’t. I can’t, because it’s not about me, is it? I feel like there’s this constant _fire_ inside my head where I’m angry and scared and then angry again, and I can’t show any of that to anyone because they’ll just say I’m selfish when what Vic is going through is so much worse.”

Aaron cupped his face, stroking this thumbs over his cheeks. He pressed his lips to Robert’s in a gentle but firm kiss, trying to convey everything he felt in that one action. Love. Understanding. Patience. Acceptance. He felt tears against his own cheeks and realized Robert was crying silently, tiny whimpers coming from his chest that he tried to swallow down as his hands came up to bracket the back of Aaron’s head, fingers tightening in his dark curls and holding on as if for life itself. 

Aaron scooted down the bed so that he was level with Robert, still kissing him, a hand coming up to still his trembling shoulders. He pulled away and buried his nose in the hollow of Robert’s throat, his cheek pressed to his collarbone. “It’s not selfish,” he said. “It’s never selfish. That’s what mental illness does to ya. It warps your mind, corrodes it. It’s never your fault. It wasn’t for me and it’s not for you.”

“But it’s not the same, is it?” Robert said. “You were genuinely ill. You had your reasons.”

Aaron looked up, his face so close to Robert’s he could see every shade of green and every shade of blue in his eyes, bright with tears. Their noses were almost touching, and he leaned forward slightly to brush them against one another. He pressed a soft kiss to his cheekbone, right under one tired, red-rimmed eye. “But so do you,” he said. “It all matters, Robert. There is no hard and fast rule. You’re my husband, and I love ya. I want to look after ya. And if you get sick, then I want to be there for ya, whether it’s the flu or something else that’s going on up here,” he gently tapped the tip of his finger to Robert’s temple, indicating his mind. “It’s because I know what it’s like that I _want_ to make sure you’re okay. I’m speakin’ from experience, and because I love you so much that the thought of you being in that dark place is somethin’ I never want for ya.”

“What did I ever do to find someone as amazing as you?” Robert asked. 

“Stole your car, didn’t I?” Aaron said, chuckling. “You were an arse, but you grew on me in the end, didn’t ya? Like a fungus or summat. Or an ingrown toenail.”

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Robert replied simply. “If I’m an ingrown toenail, I’m the luckiest ingrown toenail in the world.”

“Will ya let me get the blanket now?” Aaron asked. “If it makes you feel less self-conscious about it, we can both get under it, if ya want. I promise ya it’ll help.”

“Okay,” he agreed. “Yeah, okay. If I’m with you, I can do it.”

Aaron rolled away from Robert to drag the blanket over, draping the weight of it over both their bodies. He moved in closer, throwing one leg over Robert’s and tangling their legs together, keeping in a hiss as Robert’s cold toes made contact with his bare calf. He reached for his hand again, holding it tight against Robert’s chest, just over his heart, and adjusted the blanket so that they were both covered by it. The heavy weight of it molded immediately to the shape of their bodies, warm and secure, and he felt Robert’s shoulders relax down into the mattress with it. 

“How does that feel?” Aaron prompted. “Good?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it does,” Robert’s eyelids were already drifting closed again, his voice thick with sleep. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

Robert opened his eyes. “Always staying with me.”

Aaron shook his head. “S’not an option not to. I love you. It won’t fix everything, but....it helps, it really does. And it’s a start.”

“I can handle that, I think,” Robert replied. “As long as you’re with me.”

Aaron let himself smile at that, just a little bit. Just enough. 

“Always.”


End file.
